Chapter 1
“Eve, stop messing with your makeup and put the book down! We need to do your hair!” Mother yells at me from across the foyer then looks at the clock. “Go to the carriage! Esmeralda, do her hair, now!” Esmerelda rushes over pushing me into the carriage wrinkling my lacy white and blue dress. Esmerelda yanks my curly brown hair into a French braid, putting my headpiece in the middle.

The carriage throws us forward, making a couple curls fly out. Mother glares at the curls “Now this going to be the biggest party of the year! Even King Charles is going to be there; this could be your chance to become princess!” I just roll my eyes. I could never be being in the spot-light and you have to “inside the box”. I could never be just a housewife. The carriage pulls up to a gorgeous palace. The palace is shimmering like a pearl, The candelabras line the outside.

I look and see Louise holding out his hand, “Thank you” I squeak. He is gorgeous, but has no brain.

“You look lovely as usual,” He whispers in my ear.

“I’ve been writing…”

“You write? What is wrong with you? Never mind.” He pushes me back, stalking off.

“Fine!” I mumble.

Chapter 2

The ballroom is beautiful. The sparkling chandelier throws light on everyone. The fireplace on the back wall crackles to the beat of the music with gold statues of women on both sides. The walls and ceiling were hand painted angels scattered all over looking down on us. It couldn’t get over fast enough. Mother makes me act. My last dance was with Charles. He was wonderful. He comes up to me taking my hand and giving it a light peck, “Will you dance with me?” he questions. I smile and nod. He tugs me over to the dance floor. He draws my body close to his. The large front doors swing open: the police jump in and I flinch as they call my name

“Eve Jones, you are under arrest!” An officer reaches over stuffing my hands into the grungy strait jacket. “You are going to the asylum.”

“No, you’ve got the wrong girl! They will come for you! That’s why I made them! They will come” I scream. The officer throws, me into a carriage. I’m screaming and fighting to get loose. The hand comes hard down on my neck, causing a bruise to start forming. The carriage lurches forward, knocking me around, and everything goes black.

Chapter 3
I wake up in a cell chained up to the wall next to a young boy. To the right of me is a man who looks a little older than me and is dozing quietly. Everyone is laying or sitting on the grungy ground. There are at least twenty people stuffed in one tiny room.

“Where are we?” I mumble.

“The insane asylum. Tom over there lived here has all his life; I’m in here because apparently science is witchery,” he said.

“Who are you?” I question.

“James” he mumbles.

“There coming” Tom states.

“Who?” I query.

“Them.” He points over to another patient writing on the wall.

“Ignore him; he always says that. What are you in here for?”

“I’m a writer and I believe that my characters are real.”

“Whatever you say. We are all in here for something.”

“It’s true I’ve seen it.” I say.

Trays of goo are placed in front of us.

“What’s this?” I question.

“Food. Eat it. Because this is all you’ll get for the rest of the day, unless you want rat,” James manages in-between bites.

I look over to see slop dripping from Tom’s mouth. He stares longingly at my plate, with rats nibbling it. He lunges at it, giving me the puppy dog eyes.

“Take it,” I say as he digs in. The guard kicks the plate out of his hands making Tom shrink back in fear.

“Hey, that was his!” I shout at him. His slaps my cheek, leaving a big red mark.


“Back off. This is none of your business,” he sneers. I am too shocked to move. The guard walks out.

“You have to stay low or you’ll get killed. They don’t care about you here. Trust me.”
He seems sincere, but I shrink back into my corner pulling out my pen and paper. The pen starts to go out, leaving with nothing left to rely on, nothing to keep me sane.
Chapter 4

I wake up, my back stiff from lying on the ground so long. The patients all get taken out to the yard, an event I don’t want to participate in. I am able to hide in shadows, tucked away in the corner. My paper is wet and muddy barely legible. The paper, left over from the ball, suddenly starts to burn; I drop it because the heat is too much for me. The fire turns blue and a hand reaches out. Two bright green eyes peek through the burst of flames. A tall, pale man steps out of the fire. His shaggy red hair almost conceals the devilish look in his eyes. A sly grim appears on his face. This man is one of my characters.